Fat Funny Friend - Jack Abbot
Jack Abbot x Plus Sized Reader
synopsis: Trinity is your friend. Jack is enamored. Assholes are assholes.
warnings/notes: listen I love a plus size confident queen but sometimes I need to indulge with a fic where she's a little self-conscious and feeling not her best self. So consider this that self indulgence. Inspired by the song Fat Funny Friend by Maddie Zahm. Day 15 of Rocktober.
wc: 2.4k
You pushed open the heavy door of the bar, noise slamming into you as you stepped inside. It was busier than you thought it would be and you briefly considered leaving without finding Trinity. You could just tell her you fell asleep or something. It wouldn’t be the first time. You ran your hands down your thighs, palms suddenly clammy. The sight of a hand waving frantically from a corner table caught your attention.
Trinity stood and waved both arms. “Over here,” she shouted, obviously thinking your hesitation meant you hadn’t seen her. You huffed a breath and navigated through the crowd, dodging servers and wayward elbows as you went.
“You made it.” Trinity beamed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you the rest of the way to the table. “Everyone, this is my friend I was telling you about that’s going to revolutionize research methodologies or something equally brilliant. I can’t follow what she’s talking about most of the time.”
Four pairs of eyes turned to you and you felt the familiar panic in your gut. The moment when they were assessing you, the subtle shift in expression when people took in your size. You learned early on to head it off at the pass.
“Don’t listen to her,” you said and shrugged out of your jacket. “I spend my days shushing people and threatening the undergrads with the stapler when they misshelve their books.”
A ripple of laughter broke the ice, just as you’d intended. Trinity rolled her eyes but grinned.
“Let me introduce everyone,” she said, pointing around the table. “Yolanda Garcia, surgical resident.” The woman nodded in greeting and you understood why Trin had a crush on her.
“You know Dennis already.” Whitaker raised his beer in greeting. You’d been surprised when Trinity asked him to move in with her but you liked him well enough.
“That’s Robby,” she continued, gesturing to a tall man with a salt-and-pepper beard gathering his jacket. “Day shift attending abandoning us for his bed while the rest of us drink away our trauma.”
“Some of us have to work tomorrow,” Robby countered. He smiled at you. “It’s nice to meet you, Trinity thinks very highly of you.”
Your cheeks heated. You found it hard to believe she talked to anyone about you. You’ve never really understood why she stayed your friend but you were thankful to have her nonetheless.
Robby gestured to the man beside him. “This is Jack Abbot, night shift attending who somehow has the night off but was about to leave anyway because he hates fun.”
The man in question had clearly been on his way out with Robby but paused, his eyes meeting yours with unexpected intensity. He wore cargo pants and a simple t-shirt that seemed to somehow enhance his good looks.
“I don’t hate fun,” Abbot said, voice lower than you’d expected. “I just have a different definition of it than Robby does.”
“Drinking alone in the dark doesn’t count,” Robby ribbed.
“Says you.” He said his goodbyes to Robby then retook his seat rather than leaving.
When Dennis asked you about your graduate work, you deflected knowing he was only including you in the conversation to be polite. He always got a glazed look in his eyes when you started talking about your thesis project.
When Garcia asked a specific question about your research, you found yourself answering genuinely. “I’m developing a research database that cross references categories and obscure references. It’s dependent on information culled from the sources themselves rather than relying on AI which is notorious for making errors in medical research in particular.”
Jack settled back into his seat, his eyes fixed on you with an interest that seemed more than polite. You’d seen that look before. It was the one people get when they’re waiting for you to finish so they can speak. You braced yourself for the interruption.
“How does that work exactly, because more and more hospitals are depending on AI programs to give them information without ever looking at the data themselves?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.
The question surprised you as it seemed he was actually interested in what you had to say. You launched into the explanation, surprised to find yourself speaking without your usual self-deprecating statements. The conversation flowed with ease as you described your research methodology in detail. Jack asked questions that cut to the heart of the technical challenges you’d been wrestling with, offering perspectives from the clinical side that Trinity wasn’t experienced enough to think of.
Trinity and Dennis were discussing a case study while Garcia’s thumbs flew over her keyboard as she occasionally chipped her two cents into their conversation. Jack had shifted to face you more directly.
You suddenly realized just how long you’d been talking. He’d probably been silently begging you to shut up. “Sorry. I tend to get carried away with the library science stuff. Not exactly typical bar conversation.”
A small smile curled his lips. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t typically have bar conversations. But I’d like to hear more about your project.”
For once, you found yourself without a ready joke to deflect the attention. Instead, you took a sip of your drink and continued, aware of the unusual feeling of being genuinely seen rather than merely tolerated.
Jack watched as Trinity nudged your shoulder and gestured toward the bar. You rolled your eyes. “Duty calls,” you told him with a half-smile and got up to follow your friend.
Jack’s gaze followed you as you wove through the crowd, your shoulders tensing as you went. He noted how you tried to make yourself smaller, angling sideways between people instead of asking them to move. Anything to not be a bother. He could read it all over you. And he had trouble understanding it.
You had captured his attention from the moment Santos dragged you to the table. He had been intending to leave when Robby did but then he’d seen you. He typically avoided these outings, attending only when Robby badgered him long enough. Yet tonight, he’d stayed without prompting solely because of you. You weren’t dressed up, just wearing jeans and a floral top but he’d been instantly drawn in. And then you’d started talking and he was blown away. You were brilliant and he knew you didn’t see it.
“Another round?” Dennis asked.
“I’m good,” Jack answered, eyes never leaving you as you and Santos slid between a couple of groups at the bar.
The bartender acknowledged your friend immediately but you stayed a step behind her, scanning the bottles on the wall as you decided what you wanted. Jack took a sip of his beer, attention sharpening when two men approached Trinity. They both wore jeans with button-downs, sleeves rolled to the elbows. The taller one clapped her on the shoulder.
Jack was too far away to hear most of what was said, only catching the occasional word. Santos motioned to you and the men’s eyes flicked to you and back to her so quickly Jack might have missed it if he hadn’t been watching so closely. He didn’t miss how they positioned their bodies to include Trinity while leaving you on the periphery either.
Even from across the room, Jack could see the change in your posture. Your shoulders hunched, your smile grew brittle and your eyes darted around looking for a way out. You said something he couldn’t hear and Trinity’s friends laughed. Not with you. At you.
The taller one leaned over, saying something to you that made Trinity’s smile falter. Your face maintained its pleasant expression but Jack noticed the tightness around your eyes and the tremor in your hand as you reached for the bottle of beer the bartender slid across the counter.
Jack stood, stepping closer so he could hear what was being said and intervene if needed. He didn’t want to embarrass you and surely Santos would have your back. The second man gestured in your direction. “You’re brave, risking that denim holding all that.”
Santos laughed. Not fully but not stopping it either. She looked uncomfortable but said nothing when the taller one continued. “The fat funny friends are the best. They’re always so grateful for the attention.”
Jack was moving forward before he could think better of it. You were already backing away making your excuses. The forced brightness in your tone made his jaw clenched. You turned quickly, head down and collided directly with his chest. Your beer splashed out of the bottle and across his chest.
“Oh my god,” you stammered. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see…I wasn’t looking.”
You sat your bottle on the nearest table and grabbed a napkin dabbing at the stain. Your hand trembled against his chest and Jack felt something twist inside of him. Not annoyance but a sharp jolt of anger at the men who had reduced the confident, passionate person from earlier into this flustered state.
“It’s just a shirt,” he said quietly, trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look up.
“I’m really sorry.” You voice was thick with humiliation. “I’ll pay for the cleaning or a new one or—”
“Hey,” he cut you off but you were already backing away, still not meeting his eyes.
“I need to go.”
Before he could respond, you pushed past him, threading through the crowd with determined speed. Jack watched the door shut behind you before turning his attention to Santos. The men had already wandered off and as much as he’d like to give them a piece of his mind the worst offender here was her in his opinion.
He stepped into her space. “You let them talk to her like that?”
Her eyes widened slightly before she shrugged. “They were just joking around. It wasn’t serious.”
“Wasn’t serious,” he repeated, voice dropping lower. Santos had worked with him enough she should sense the danger in that tone.
“Look it’s just how they are. They don’t mean anything by it.” She darted a glance in their direction.
“And that makes it okay? To humiliate someone? To make jokes about her weight?” Jack leaned closer. “To imply she should be grateful for their attention?”
Trinity flinched. “I didn’t say any of that.”
“But you laughed. You stood there and let it happen.” He shook his head. “She’s supposed to be your friend.”
Her shoulders sagged as she glanced toward the door where you disappeared. “I didn’t think…it’s always been easier to just go along with it. To be one of them instead of…” She gestured vaguely toward the door.
“Instead of a target.”
She nodded. “I’ve known them since undergrad. They can make my life hell if they want to.”
“So you let them make her life hell instead.”
Santos had no answer for that.
“You’re better than this, Santos. Or at least, you should be.” He stepped back. “Did she drive?”
She shook her head. “No, we were going to walk to her place after. It’s not far.”
“Which way?” he asked.
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“Which way would she go, Santos?”
“Oh.” She gestured and rattled off the address.
He nodded and turned to go after you, hoping you hadn’t gotten far. He didn’t like the thought of you walking home humiliated and upset. He noticed your jacket still on the back of your chair and snagged it on his way by.
The night air was a shock after the stuffy heat of the bar. His eyes scanned the street spotting you sitting on a bench in the small park across from the bar. You sat hunched forward, arms wrapped around yourself staring at the ground.
Jack crossed the street, approaching slowly to keep from startling you. Your head lifted at the sound of footsteps. You wiped the lingering moisture from your cheeks and gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
“If you’ve come about the drycleaning bill, you’ll have to take a number. Student loans take most of my salary.”
Jack sat beside you on the bench, leaving some space to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable with his presence. He handed you the jacket. “Actually, I came to bring you this and to see if you were okay.”
You glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t need your pity or whatever this is.”
“It’s not pity.” His voice was firm, unyielding. “I genuinely enjoyed our conversation earlier. You’re interesting.”
You studied him for a long moment. “Why?”
He frowned in confusion. “Why what?”
“Why would you think anything about me was interesting?” The question was direct, stripped of your usual protective humor. “I know what I look like. I know what people think when they see me. I’m the comic relief, not the one people actually want to talk to.”
The honesty caught Jack off guard, feeling like a trust he hadn’t earned yet. “Then those people are idiots. You are the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time. Intelligence matters to me. Passion matters. When you talked about your research, I could see your mind working, connecting ideas in ways I could never think of. That’s rare. And valuable.”
You looked away, staring at your hands. “Most people don’t see that part.”
“Yeah, well as I already said people are idiots.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “I spend twelve hours a day patching up the results of human stupidity. I’ve learned to recognize the exceptions when I meet them.”
A flicker of a smile crossed your face.
“I’d like to hear more about your research or anything else you’d like to talk about.”
The invitation hung in the air between you. You turned to look at him directly, searching his face for any sign of insincerity or mockery. Finding none, you made a decision. “Night shift, huh?”
“Yep.”
You stood and slipped into your jacket. “Always been a bit of a night owl myself. There’s an all-night diner not too far from here. I’ll buy you breakfast to make up for the shirt.”
As if he’d ever let you pay, especially after that crack about the student loans. Jack allowed himself a grin as he stood and offered you a hand. “It’s a date.”
